


Next To You

by Narcissistic_Ninny



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:58:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narcissistic_Ninny/pseuds/Narcissistic_Ninny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji knew out of everything he had shared with Zoro, this was what he was going to miss the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Next To You

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very late Christmas gift for Jo. She requested Zosan with a 'moving' prompt. I hope you like it darling.

 

All his things were already packed; stuffed into boxes and his luggage, his airline ticket sitting on the bedside table. He had already said goodbye to all his friends, and his old man would be the one taking him to the airport tomorrow, even though him and the old man were terrible with goodbyes.

He hadn’t really said his goodbye to Zoro as much as said he wanted a really memorable farewell fuck. And Zoro complied. Three times. If they were closer, Sanji would have even asked for a farewell date. But, as it was, him and Zoro weren’t close. Hell, he didn’t know if he would ever see the other man again.

Zoro's hand wandered down to his groin, fingers curling in the dark blonde hair there. His lips were on the other man’s neck, and Sanji knew out of everything he had shared with Zoro, this was what he was going to miss the most.

When they were both boneless, their muscles relaxed and more carefree than they ever cared to be around each other, when Sanji felt too content to start a fight with him, to just lie there with him and take comfort in his gentle caresses, when Zoro felt too relaxed and lazy to do anything other than run his fingers over his body, through his hair, touch him in the gentlest of ways that Zoro never dared show outside of sex.

He didn’t want to dwell on it too much, but he was really going to miss this, miss _him._

“Stop.”

Sanji startled, looked up. “What?”

“I can hear you thinking. Just enjoy this,” Zoro's gravelly voice said to him.

That was all it took. Sanji nodded, shifting closer to Zoro, nuzzling into the warmth of his chest.

 

**

 

France wasn’t anything like he expected; it was better.

The land, the food, the school, _the girls._

He loved it all.

Even his small apartment near his school was nice. Every morning he walked to school, just enjoying the fact that he didn’t need to drive everywhere. He would stop by the cafes and drink coffee, and after school he would go sightseeing, sending pictures to his friends. His boxes full of books and clothes were still littered all over his apartment, but his laptop and TV were already set up, and he kept in contact with the old man everyday, with his friends, but not with Zoro.

He didn’t really expect anything from him either; back at home they had only been a fling, nothing serious. Hell, he hadn’t learned Zoro's last name and age until two months before he moved. He had his number saved in his phone, and once in a while, he would stare at the screen, mentally going over the many reasons why he shouldn’t call.

The time difference. The moron was probably asleep. Hell, they weren’t serious anyways; he would sound pathetic and needy. Zoro was probably busy, doing marimo things. The bastard probably wouldn’t answer. They would end up arguing anyways. Hell, maybe Zoro didn’t even remember him, had found another guy or girl to fool around with.

All those reasons kept him from dialing every time. The first few weeks were hard, but it got better. Sanji immersed himself in his schooling completely; he made new friends, hung out and met girls at bars.

He had a good time, just like the old man told him to.

But in the back of his mind, there was Zoro.

 

**

 

As it turned out, Zoro was the one who called him. Sanji blinked at his screen several times, trying to figure out if his eyes were deceiving him. He picked up quickly, sounding more desperate than he wanted to when he said hello.

“So,” the familiar voice drawled out. “You liking it over there?”

Sanji's heart and mind were racing, because Zoro called him. Sanji locked a strand of hair behind his ear, leaned against the kitchen counter because he felt like the room was spinning.

“Um. Yeah, I am, actually.”

“Cool,” Zoro said. He couldn’t tell if he was bored with the conversation, or just being…

Shy.

But the Zoro he knew – and he had to admit, he didn’t know Zoro that well – wasn’t shy. Zoro didn’t do shy. Zoro had the blunt, borderline rude, head-on approach kind of guy.

“You moved there for school, right?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you remember.”

“Hard to forget when you wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Shut up, I brought it up twice before I left.”

Zoro chuckled on the other end. “Whatever. I just wanted to check in on how you were doing.”

“Well, school’s kicking my ass, but I like it.”

“That’s weird, but okay.”

“How are you?”

Zoro yawned. Sanji almost forgot about the time difference. “Fine.”

And that left Sanji absolutely nothing to go with. Perfect.

“Anyways, I have to go. Take care.”

And Zoro hung up before he could say goodbye back. Sanji stared at his phone, wondering if he should be happy or confused.

 

**

 

Sanji had worried before that they would break into arguments on the phone before.

They did. All the time. Over anything, who was hotter, Chris Hemsworth or Chris Evans, or what kind of French fry was better, curly or regular. Star Trek or Star Wars. What version of _My Way_ was better, Frank Sinatra’s or Sid Vicious’. Halloween or Christmas. What country made the best cars, Italy or Germany. Coffee or tea. Did cereal taste better in the morning or at dinnertime?

Zoro was a man of very strong opinions. Very wrong opinions, but he felt strongly about them and fought with Sanji whenever he tried to tell him just how wrong he was. Even so, Sanji secretly liked their little spats, and had a feeling Zoro enjoyed them as well. It certainly made him smile when he saw his name on his screen.

It was nice and comfortable in a way Sanji didn’t want to think about. It made him giddy, made him think about back to when he was high school, and he stayed up all night talking to his crush on the phone, fighting off sleep, muffling his yawns because he didn’t want to hang up. It felt like that, but better. And it was all Zoro's fault.

 

**

 

He graduated in two years. In two years he learned a lot about Zoro.

Sanji, for example, could tell the difference between Zoro's real snores when he fell asleep during a late night conversation and the snores Zoro had a habit of faking when Sanji started to talk too long about something Zoro wasn’t interested in. He could tell the difference between his ‘yes, I’m listening, continue’ grunt and his ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m too embarrassed to admit it’ grunt. Zoro had a habit of hanging up the phone before Sanji could say goodbye.

Zoro worked out almost as much as Sanji cooked and was definitely an outdoor person, half the time he called he was out somewhere, frolicking in the wild. He learned Zoro loved to drink, but for all the drinking he did, he didn’t actually know the names of any cocktails because Zoro drank everything straight up, never mixed with anything like soda or ice because the man was a damn alcoholic and apparently too manly for martinis.

He learned that Zoro slept more than sleeping beauty, had woken him up from a nap more times than he could count, it didn’t even matter what time he called. Zoro hated being called marimo, but let it go if Sanji purred it just right. Sanji also learned that Zoro never answered on the first ring – he suspected he did it to spite him. Zoro did this little breathy sigh thing after he laughed really hard and needed to catch his breath. Most of those times were right after he laughed at Sanji, but still. His laugh was nice.

But.

He didn’t know Zoro at all.

Sanji didn’t know if Zoro lived alone, or had roommates. He didn’t know where he lived before, if he lived with his parents, if he moved around a lot as a kid. Sanji didn’t even know if Zoro had parents, if they were alive or not. He didn’t even know if Zoro had siblings, or the names of his friends, or if even had any friends.

He didn’t know if Zoro had ever been in love, what the stories behind his scars were, if Zoro had ever gone to college. He could see Zoro being a total nerd, getting nothing but straight A’s, pushing himself to perfection, but he could also see Zoro as the kid who fell asleep in class and ditched school every other day.

Hell, he didn’t know if Zoro actually spoke Japanese or not, if he went to church, if he had ever been heartbroken, if he had been scared when he got those scars, who was there with him in the hospital afterwards, did someone hold his hand through his pain? Did Zoro have a happy childhood? All these things remained unanswered.

Even the small things were a mystery, stupid things like what his favorite color was, or animal, or type of food, favorite band and clothing brand. Knowing Zoro, he didn’t have one, but still.

For all the conversations he had with Zoro, Zoro remained a stranger.

 

**

 

The first day he was back home, he had a nice lunch date with his old man, got his ass kicked for not calling enough, and had a lovely dinner and a night of bar hoping with his friends. The second day he was back, he was recovering from a hangover when he heard a knock on the door.

Wonder of wonders, Zoro was at his door, in a T-shirt. A tight white T-shirt that was really doing miracles for his broad shoulders and fabulous abs. Sanji was glad to know his memory of him hadn’t been exaggerating the perfection that was Zoro's body. He had gotten broader, taller too. He looked good. Really good. It was really unfair, because Sanji had gotten taller, but he was just as thin, and only felt awkward and twig-like around Zoro.

“Hi.”

Sanji smiled. “Hi.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “What are you doing here?”

Zoro jerked his head to the space past Sanji’s shoulder. “I figured you needed help unpacking.”

“Oh. You don’t have to.”

“I was supposed to meet you at the bar yesterday, let me make it up to you.”

And Sanji had almost forgotten, but he had called Zoro when he had been drunk, telling him to join him and his friends. Zoro had never showed, but, yet, here he was, offering to help him unpack. Sanji was definitely still drunk.

But Zoro stayed and helped him unpack his clothes and hang his suits in his closet. The first thing he had unpacked was all his kitchen supplies, cooking utensils and silverware were all neatly organized in his new kitchen. Zoro laughed at him for not thinking to unpack clothing first. Sanji laughed harder when he found out the reason Zoro didn’t meet him the night before was because he had gotten _lost._

After his suits were hanged and his books were put on the shelves, and his hangover was gone, Sanji laced his arms around Zoro’s shoulders; pressing himself up against him, feeling the tight, taunt muscles beneath. “So, it’s been two years. I think I’m due for some ‘welcome back’ sex.”

Zoro chuckled, rich and deep. “Yeah, definitely.”

It felt good to see him laugh, not just hear him over the phone. Zoro squeezed his ass, lifting him up easily. Sanji never felt so light as when he was in Zoro's arms. His legs went around the other man’s waist, their lips locking, kissing deeply there in the middle of his living room.

Sanji didn’t have his bed assembled yet, so they fucked once against the wall, another time on the carpet.

Unpacking wasn’t so bad after all, Sanji concluded.

 

**

 

Building the new IKEA bed was a little harder than he thought. Okay, a lot harder. The good news was that Zoro offered to stop by and build it for him –after laughing and calling him a useless cook. He had been coming by almost everyday to help him unpack, organize his things back on the shelves, and afterwards Sanji would cook them dinner. Then, they would fuck each other senseless, which was Sanji's favorite part of the night.

It was almost like dating.

Almost.

It was enough.

Sometimes. 

“Got your bed ready,” Zoro announced from his bedroom.

“Cool, dinner’s ready,” he called back.

Zoro emerged, all long and firm limbs, and everything Sanji wanted. He sat down at his table, the IKEA one that Zoro built as well, and Zoro sat in front of him. Sanji made fun of Zoro's hair, and Zoro made fun of his eyebrows, falling into the routine Sanji was getting comfortable with. A routine Sanji wanted to follow, even if most of his things were unpacked.

They could continue being fuck buddies, Sanji hoped they would anyways, but there was something about just spending time with him that Sanji enjoyed. Listening to him talk, watching him laze around his apartment, he wanted very much to have Zoro do that more often, to keep his company.

“Hey, listen, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Zoro said, moving his food around on his plate with his fork, interrupting his thoughts.

“Shoot,” Sanji said.

“I was wondering if maybe you’ll like to go out on a date with me.”

Sanji nearly dropped his fork. “Whaaa, really?” he asked.

“Yeah, well, as great as being fuck buddies with you is, I want to be more than that,” he looked at Sanji like he was regretting his words. Zoro actually looked embarrassed. It was really cute. “But, I understand if you don’t want to.”

Sanji shook his head fast, this time; he did drop his fork. “No, I want to date you. I really do.”

“Great.” Zoro smiled, small and bashful.

There was a moment of silence, where both of them just stared at each other. Before Sanji laughed. Hard.

Zoro glared, narrowing his eyes, getting defensive. “Oi, what’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just, I’m so stupid. I mean, you stopped by everyday to help me unpack, not even my friends offered to do that, and I was so stupid, I didn’t think you liked me, but it should have been obvious.”

“I was wondering if you were that dense.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

“Stupid cook.”

“Idiot moss.”

Sanji smiled.

Yeah, he was definitely home.

 

 


End file.
